


The Haunting of Kane Manor

by Sparklyfairymira (myonetruelove)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chopped Choice: Horror, Chopped: The 100 Fanfic Challenge, F/M, Ghosts, Grabbing Their Hand in the Dark for Comfort, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Haunting, Horror, It Was A Dark And Stormy Night, witching hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myonetruelove/pseuds/Sparklyfairymira
Summary: When Roan offers Clarke and Bellamy a hundred grand to stay at a fake haunted house for a night for his new reality TV show, they jump at the chance. But what happens when it turns out to actually be haunted?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 51
Collections: Chopped Choice: Horror





	The Haunting of Kane Manor

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Chopped Choice: Horror. I love Halloween and decided to go out of my comfort zone and write a ghost story. Whether or not it's actually scary? Well, that's up to you to decide.
> 
> Theme: Modern AU  
> Tropes: Haunted Building, It was a dark and stormy night, grabbing their hand in the dark for comfort & witching hour.

The lights flash for just a moment, the lightning the only source of light for a moment before the thunder rumbles, shaking the house. Clarke jumps, feeling the thunder in her bones. Of all nights they had to do this, it had to be on Halloween night when it is dark and stormy? She is already regretting her decision.

“You okay, Clarke?”

Clarke looks up, forcing a smile as Bellamy sits beside her on the couch. “I’m fine, you know how much I hate storms.”

Bellamy laughs as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. “My wife—scared of only two things in life: storms and ghosts. Which is why I love that somehow Roan talked you into this.”

Clarke shrugs as she looks into the fire. She’s not even sure how she let Roan talk her into this except that he’d assured her that the house that they’re staying in isn’t actually haunted. Well, that and the bribe of a hundred grand. “He’s my friend and he needed a couple to stay in a pretend haunted house for a night. His producers wanted to make sure that the first episode went off without a hitch.”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll keep you safe.” Bellamy presses a kiss to her head before leaning forward and grabbing a book off the table. “So should we read about how this house is supposedly haunted?”

“Sure, might as well know what we’re getting into right?” Clarke shivers as chills run up and down her spine. What in the world? She shakes it off as she leans back against Bellamy. “Tell me a story.”

“Oh, so I get to read to you, huh?” 

“Sure do.” Clarke turns her head to press a kiss to his chin. 

_“The year was 1902 when the Kanes decided to make Arkadia their home,”_ Bellamy reads.

“Wait? The Kanes? You don’t think?” Clarke narrows her eyes as she looks up at Bellamy.

“I don’t know, but how about you let me finish the story?” Bellamy shakes his head before turning back to the books. 

_“They built a lavish home that was the envy of those that already resided in Arkadia. Unfortunately, the construction seemed to be riddled with bad luck, something that seemed to carry into the life of the Kanes once the home was finished.”_

_“The foreman was crushed by a falling beam in the first week of construction and the architect disappeared just days before the project was completed. His body was found floating in the lake weeks later with no clues as to how he had ended up there. There were never-ending issues in the construction and it took over two years for the house to be built and a total of ten men died in mysterious accidents while working on the home. But in 1904 the Kane Manor was ready to be lived in and a lavish party was thrown where all of Arkadia was invited—a night that turned into a horror.”_

_“A killer was amidst the crowd that night, a serial killer that was never caught. Twenty people were killed that night including the matriarch of the family Vera-”_

“Seriously? Vera Kane? There’s no way Marcus isn’t related to them, I wonder why he didn’t say anything.” Clarke shakes her head and opens her mouth to say something else before snapping it shut. “Sorry, continue.”

_“Twenty people were killed that night including the matriarch of the family Vera leaving behind her newlywed daughter Calliope and her husband Abraham as the owners of the new house. Things seemed to settle down for the next few years and the Kane family grew and flourished in Arkadia—although the children often talked about hearing and seeing things that weren’t there. Fifteen years later, the servants showed up to find the entire Kane family—Calliope, Abraham, and their five children murdered in the same way as those at the party. Evidence led the police to believe that Abraham might have been the serial killer who had killed those at the party all of those years before. But the question still remains that if he was the serial killer then who killed him and his family?”_

_“The house remained empty for over twenty years before Vera Kane’s younger brother came to live out his life in the home, but left after only one night in the house. It sat on the market for years, finally selling to a young couple who had it back on the market within days. It is said that they had seen things—unspeakable things. For years the house would sit on the market to finally sell to an out-of-towner looking to settle who would put it back on the market within days. All of the stories were the same. Furniture moving on its own, whispered voices, seeing movement out of the corner of their eyes only to realize that there was nothing there. Another constant is that it has been reported that most of the activity was during the witching hour, the hour when the veil is thinnest between the spirit world and our own. Who haunts the house? Who would want to? There are so many choices with all of the people that were murdered in the house, but one thing is for sure: ghosts haunt the Kane Manor.”_

Just as Bellamy reads the last word there is a loud crash of thunder as the lights flicker out and die, leaving the room only to be lit by the fire and the occasional flash of lightning. Clarke shrieks as she jumps into Bellamy’s lap, burying her face into his shoulder as her heart pounds.

Bellamy chuckles. “Maybe it’s time for bed?”

“Yeah, bed.” Clarke takes a deep breath as she pulls away. “That sounds like a great idea. Let’s go to sleep. Get this night over with so we can go home.”

“We can go home now—if you want.” Bellamy stands, lifting Clarke into his arms. 

Clarke shakes her head. “Nope, I said I was going to stay here and I’m going to do it.” She pauses. “Are you going to put me down?”

“Nah.” Bellamy shakes his head. “Figured I’d carry you to bed. Make sure you’re safe.”

“You want to carry me in the dark, up the stairs in a house you’re unfamiliar with? That doesn’t sound safe in the least. How about you put me down and I’ll walk myself?” Clarke kisses him, letting herself get lost in it for a minute before she remembers that there are cameras set up everywhere in the house—she is _not_ giving Roan a free show. Although she’s sure he’d love that. She pulls away slowly, lighting her eyebrows expectantly.

“Fine.” Bellamy rolls his eyes. “I guess that’s what I get for trying to be romantic.” He slowly sets her onto her feet.

Clarke laughs as she slides her hand into his. “Us falling down the stairs because you missed a step and having to go to the emergency room is anything but romantic.” She heads toward the stairs, pulling on his hand until he follows. They head up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Clarke is grateful to see that the fire is still burning. “Will you put some more logs on the fire so we make sure that it stays going for at least most of the night?”

“Sure.” Bellamy kneels down and begins feeding the fire while Clarke ducks into the bathroom—the one room Roan had promised didn’t have cameras. She gets ready for bed quickly and they’re crawling into bed just before midnight. Now all she has to do is go to sleep and when she wakes up they can leave. They’ll have to come back the next night for more filming, but she can deal with that. She can do this.

Bellamy pulls her into his arms and places a kiss on her forehead. “Good night, babe.”

“Night,” Clarke whispers as her eyes fall shut and she’s relieved to realize that she’s actually tired. Being on edge all night seems to have exhausted her. As she teeters on the edge of consciousness she decides maybe this isn’t the worst idea in the world.

* * *

Clarke jerks away, gasping as she sits up. She glances around, taking in the room that is still lit only by the light of the fire as she tries to figure out what woke her up. A scraping noise has her grasping at her chest as her eyes land on a chair in the corner—a chair that is moving on its own. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“BELLAMY!” Clarke screams as she shakes him awake. 

Bellamy sits up, eyes blinking. “What? What’s going on?”

Clarke’s eyes fall to the chair. It’s no longer moving and it’s silent in the room except for the crackling fire. “The chair was moving. There was a scraping noise and it woke me up. The chair was moving on its own.” Clarke’s breaths are shallow, eyes locked on the chair.

“What?” Bellamy wipes at his face as he follows Clarke’s line of sight. He shakes his head. “You were probably having a bad dream and it woke you up and thought you saw it. Just go back to sleep.”

Clarke shakes her head. She knows what she saw. She grabs her phone from the bedside table to look at the time and sees that it’s 3:00 on the dot. “The witching hour,” she whispers.

Bellamy is already lying back down as he turns to face her. “What are you going on about?”

“The witching hour, Bell!” Clarke shoves her phone in his face. “Just like the story said!” 

Bellamy laughs as his eyes fall shut again. “Go back to sleep, Clarke. It’s just a story that people tell. Ghosts aren’t real.” 

The door flies open, banging against the wall causing both Clarke and Bellamy to jump. Clarke’s eyes dart to the door, but there’s no one there. “You were saying?”

Bellamy stares at the doorway for a moment before shaking his head. “It’s got to be Roan. He probably wants us to be genuinely afraid so he said the jump scares were going to happen tomorrow night but decided to surprise us.”

Laughter filters through the room, soft and quiet—childlike. Clarke’s eyes are wide as she reaches for Bellamy’s hand, comforted by his touch as she sniffs. The smell of pipe tobacco is permeating the room—reminding Clarke of her grandpa. “I don’t think so, Bell,” she whispers.

“Clarke,” Bellamy squeezes her hand as he sits up to face her. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth the chair that Clarke had seen moving earlier flies across the room, slamming into the fall and splintering into pieces. “Ghosts _are_ real and I’m pretty sure that you saying that they’re not is severely pissing off the ones that are here.” Clarke’s eyes are wide as she turns to face Bellamy once again.

“I’m telling you, this is just Roan.” Bellamy squeezes her hand once more before throwing back the covers. “Here, I’ll show you.” Bellamy steps out of the bed and as soon as his feet hit the ground he falls over.

“Bell?” Clarke crawls to the edge of the bed to find Bellamy on his back, confusion on his face. 

“I can’t move,” Bellamy’s words shake just the slightest. “It feels like someone is holding me in place.”

Clarke starts to get out of the bed but stops when she sees something flickering in the air above Bellamy. She turns her head and stops, shocked. There seems to be an outline of a man holding Bellamy to the floor. “Bellamy…that’s because someone is—or at least something.”

Bellamy’s eyes narrow on her as the man—ghost—turns to meet her eyes and all she sees is emptiness. “Holy shit!” Bellamy gasps as he starts to struggle. “What am I supposed to do, Clarke?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke shakes her head the slightest, unable to break eye contact with the spirit. It feels like all of the warmth, all of the joy is being sucked straight from her. She’s filled with sadness, despair, and anger. 

“Clarke?!” Bellamy yells, trying to get her attention. “Clarke?”

Clarke drags her eyes away from the ghost’s to find Bellamy staring back at her terrified. “What?”

“You weren’t responding to me—something seemed wrong. Are you okay?” Bellamy is still fighting against the ghostly hands that are holding him down.

Clarke laughs quietly to herself because here he is being held down by a ghost and he’s worried about her. It’s so like him. “I’m fine. I don’t know what happened.” She slowly lowers herself from the bed, inching her way toward Bellamy and the ghost. “It’s you I’m worried about. I don’t know how to get a ghost to let go of you.”

Clarke lets out a high pitched scream as she feels a small, cold hand wrap around her ankle. She looks down and again sees a flicker in the air—not truly there, but still causing a disturbance in the air. “Please let me go, please.” 

“Clarke? Let her go! Leave her alone!” Bellamy yells as he begins to thrash harder.

Clarke sees a small head slide out of under the bed, followed by a small body as the ghostly hand releases her ankle. The small girl holds a finger to her lips in the universal sign to be quiet. Clarke is shaking, adrenaline running through her body as she nods. What else is she supposed to do?

“Daddy?” The voice is young, quiet and the ghost child’s mouth doesn’t move, but the sound reverberates through the room. 

The ghost holding Bellamy’s head swings around, face dropping when he sees the young girl. His hold on Bellamy slackens as the girl steps back slowly. “Come and find us, Daddy!” She grins, eyes flashing to Clarke’s for a moment—a warning. Of what, Clarke doesn’t know. The girl spins on her heel and runs from the room, footsteps sounding up and down the hallway of more than one child. The ghost holding Bellamy stands slowly and walks to the door, movements slow and precise and that’s when Clarke sees the outline of a knife in his hand.

“Oh, God,” she whispers, eyes filling with tears. It’s Abraham going to kill his wife and children. Her legs can’t support her any longer as she falls to the floor. 

Bellamy is there in seconds, pulling her to her feet. “We have to go, Clarke. We have to get out of here.”

Clarke’s hand tightens around her phone as Bellamy leads her to the doorway where they pause, looking up and down the hallway. It appears to be empty so they head to the stairs, lightning flashing and bringing the area into view for just a moment. Clarke gasps, head snapping to the right, but there’s nothing there. She would’ve sworn that she saw someone moving there a moment ago. She swallows hard as Bellamy drags her down the stairs to the front door.

Bellamy struggles with the locks, turning them quickly before yanking on the door—only it doesn’t open. “What the fuck?” He yanks again, but the door still doesn’t open. His eyes are wide as he turns to her. “It won’t open.”

“It’s fine, we’ll use the back door.” Clarke takes a few calming breaths as she begins leading Bellamy through the house to the kitchen. She unlocks the door and turns the knob, pulling hard but it doesn’t open. “Shit.”

“Here, let me try.” Bellamy brushes past her and yanks on the door.

Clarke spins around, eyes landing on the window over the sink. She unlatches it and tries to pull it open, but it feels like something is still holding it closed. “Bell….”

“They don’t want us to leave.” Bellamy’s eyes dart around the room, landing on a chair. He rushes over and swings it toward one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Just before it’s going to crash through the window it’s yanked from his grasp, hurling across the room right for Clarke. 

Clarke ducks with a gasp as she crawls toward Bellamy. “I’m calling Roan.” She unlocks her phone, shaking fingers trying to find his name in her phone.

“No,” the word whispers through the room as her phone is yanked from her grasp and thrown against the wall.

Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, curling up as she wraps her arms around herself. She doesn’t know what to do. They don’t want them to leave. They _can’t_ leave. She’s shaking as fear coursed through her. She doesn’t know what to do—she can’t think. 

“Clarke. Clarke, stay with me.” Bellamy’s hands are on her face as he forces her to look at him. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

“Together,” Clarke whispers as she tries to pull herself out of the pit of despair she feels welling within herself. They’d promised one another in their vows that they would get through anything that life through their way—together. She lays her hands over his as their eyes meet. “I’m so scared, Bell.”  
  


“Me too, Princess. Me too.” He presses a quick kiss to her lips before standing, pulling her to her feet as he does so. “But we’ll figure this out. We have to.”

Clarke nods. “Let’s check the other rooms. Maybe we can get out one of the other windows?” She doesn’t think that will work, but she doesn’t have any other ideas at that moment. 

“Yeah, let’s try that. It’s better than standing here doing nothing.” Bellamy entwines their fingers before leading her to the living room. “Start on that side, I’ll start here. Try every window.”

It doesn’t take them long to realize that none of the windows are budging. They move from room to room on the bottom floor with the same results. After checking the doors once more they find themselves at the bottom of the stairs. “I guess we should try upstairs?” Clarke doesn’t like how her voice shakes.

Bellamy swallows hard before giving her a sharp nod. “We have to.”

They head up the stairs slowly, heads jerking around as they hear the sound of footsteps running up and down the hallways, childlike laughter bouncing off the walls. It makes them pause for a moment before Clarke tugs on Bellamy’s hand and continues up the stairs—they have to keep moving. 

They avoid the master bedroom, heading to the door on the opposite end of the hallway. Bellamy swings open the door to reveal a library. They step inside, both jumping as the door slams shut behind them.

Clarke closes her eyes as the sound of a woman sobbing silently reaches her ears. She shivers. Someone is watching them. Her eyes fly open, eyes scanning the room, but she doesn’t see anything. She steps further into the room, shaking off Bellamy when he tries to stop her. 

Clarke’s eyes lock on a tall backed chair and she walks closer she feels a sense of total despair wash over her. She feels helpless and heartbroken. She breathes out, watching as her breath appears and realizes that she’s freezing. It takes everything in her to step around the chair.

Staring back at her is the semi-transparent body of a young woman in her early thirties. Tears stream down her face, her body shimmering in and out of view as she sobs. From the clothing she is wearing Clarke guesses that this is Calliope. Clarke reaches out toward her, stopping when Bellamy grabs her hand. 

“Don’t.” Bellamy shakes his head.

Clarke glances at him before pulling her hand from his grasp. She lays her hand on the shoulder of Calliope, a shiver running up her arm and down her spine at the contact. For just a moment she feels something solid beneath her hand before it passes through the air. 

Calliope’s eyes snap up to meet Clarke’s as a blood-curling scream of a young child sounds. Calliope’s head snaps to the door before turning back to Clarke with a wild look in her eyes. “You must hide. If he finds you, he will kill you next.” Her mouth doesn’t move but her words surround Clarke.

Bellamy grasps Clarke’s hand as a young boy’s whimpering can be heard just outside the door, followed by a noise that Clarke doesn’t want to think about. 

Calliope grabs Clarke’s arms and for just a moment she feels solid as she shakes Clarke. “You must hide.” 

The door to the closet slams against the door and Clarke feels a force pushing her toward it. She doesn’t hesitate as she runs to it, pulling Bellamy with her. In the moment of light before the closet door slams shut Clarke sees a hidden door open, just big enough for them to crawl through. “C’mon,” she whispers as she hears the door to the room they had just been inside hit the wall. 

Clarke drops to her knees and crawls across the floor until she reaches the trap door, crawling inside. She stands slowly when she realizes that there is enough room to do so. As soon as Bellamy is inside the room the trap door slams shut and Bellamy is pulling her into his arms. 

“No! Abraham! Don’t!” Calliope’s voice can still be heard through the walls as she yells at her husband before letting out a scream that is cut short. 

Clarke clings to Bellamy and she’s sure that he’s shaking just as bad as she is. She hears the door to the closet open and she squeezes her eyes shut—hoping that they’re safe. She doesn’t know if a ghost can murder a person or not, but she doesn’t want to find out and Calliope seemed sure that he would kill them if he found them. She holds her breath, waiting. 

She doesn’t know how long they stand there like that, but eventually, Bellamy pulls away from her. “I should check and see if it’s safe. See if we can get out of here.”

“No.” Clarke shakes her head. “I think that we should stay here until morning. I feel safe. I don’t want to chance it.”

“How will we know when it’s morning, Clarke?” Bellamy asks, taking her face into his hands. 

Clarke shakes her head as she leans back against the wall, slowly sliding down it. “Roan will be here in the morning. We’ll hear him. Please don’t leave me, Bell.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” Bellamy sits down next to her, pulling her into his arms as she quietly sobs. 

Eventually, she must fall asleep because she wakes up to loud banging and worried voices. “Clarke! Bellamy!”

Clarke shakes Bellamy awake before crawling to the trap door, letting out a sigh of relief when it opens easily. “It’s Roan, Bell. C’mon.”

Clarke scurries through the door, slamming open the closet door and finding herself face-to-face with Roan. She throws her arms around him. “Thank God, you’re here.”

Bellamy slowly extradites her from Roan’s grasp as Roan frowns at them. “Why are you in the closet? Your car was outside, but we couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Your not-haunted house? Turns out it’s very haunted, asshole!” Clarke slaps Roan’s arm. 

“What are you talking about?” Roan glances between Clarke and Bellamy.

“Just watch the tapes, you’ll see. We’re getting the hell out of here.” Bellamy starts to pull Clarke from the room, stopping to glance back at Roan. “You won’t need to have us film here again tonight. I’m pretty sure you’ll have everything you need for your stupid show and we will not ever be setting foot in this house again.” 

Clarke follows Bellamy out of the room and down the stairs, neither bothering with collecting their things from the bedroom. Clarke doesn’t want to be in this house any longer than necessary—she just wants to get home where she feels safe. 

Bellamy opens the passenger side door and lets her climb in before kneeling before her. “I don’t even have my keys or my phone. I’m going to run back inside and grab our stuff, but you stay here, please?”

Clarke opens her mouth to argue—she doesn’t want him going back into the house, but one look at his face and she knows that he has to do this. Bellamy has never been one to let fear overwhelm him and he has to face those fears. She just nods, leaning forward to press her lips against his for a moment before letting him shut the door. She watches him walk back into the front door before letting her eyes fall shut. 

Clarke has always believed in ghosts, but having dealt with a maleficent one has made her rethink her stance on them. She knows that she’ll never be able to watch Roan’s show—never be able to enjoy scary movies again. Her life will never be the same again, but the one thing she’s grateful for is Bellamy. He was there for her the entire time and never left her side. He was truly her constant.

Clarke jumps slightly when the driver’s side door opens, her head jerking to the side to see Bellamy climbing in the car. He gives her a sad smile before reaching over to take her hand in his, squeezing lightly. “It’s just me, babe. Why don’t I get you home? I’ll draw you a bath when we get there I’ll draw us a bath, make us some breakfast. We’ll spend the day in bed.”

“That sounds amazing.” Clarke settles back into her seat, eyes falling shut again as Bellamy starts the car. She doesn’t know how they’ll get through this, but she knows that it’ll be together.


End file.
